


Does it need saying?

by ChocoNut



Series: Many ways to say I love you [58]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Deviates at 8x4, F/M, Fluff, Heated argument leading to confession and more, Prelude to TBTWP, What if the bang had gone differently?, jealous jaime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-05 22:17:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20280724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: When Brienne walks away after Tyrion calls out her virginity, Jaime follows her, doubt creeping into his mind about her and Tormund. What ensues is a heated argument, followed by a confession and more.





	Does it need saying?

_ Fuck Tormund, _Jaime cursed in his mind, rushing after the wench, hoping fervently that she’d speak to him after his brother’s indiscriminate remark about her virginity. What bothered him apart the insult Tyrion had hurled at her, was the uncomfortable observation that she had not played by the rules of the game. She hadn’t touched another drop of the wine. While she had barely bothered to acknowledge the wildling’s presence, she hadn’t confirmed, nor denied Tyrion’s allegation.

_ What if--what if she is, indeed, taken in by the wildling’s savagery? What if I’ve wasted too much time deliberating? _ Horror filled him as the acid rose to his chest, leaving a trail of sour discomfort along its path and a sudden feeling of insecurity. _ What if she’s already his? _

Determined to find out, he chased after her, resolving to himself that he’d sort out this matter tonight. Keen not to lose her in the crowd, he had his eyes set on her as he raced through the winding passages. Unfortunately, though, distraction came in the form of a pair of drunks who collided with him, their senses totally knocked out as they seemed to have lost their way, looking up at him to assist them. “That way,” he pointed them in the direction of the noise and revelry, all the time looking beyond them, frantic to keep an eye on Brienne. But when he was finally rid of them, there was no sign of her, and all that surrounded him now was nothing but an eerie sense of quiet. He had, thankfully, had the sense to find out from Pod where she resided, in addition to the numerous other things about her he’d sought information about from her squire. Dashing up the stairs leading to her room, two steps at a time, he prayed she wouldn’t turn him down.

Two floors above the din of the great feast, he spotted her ambling towards a door not far from where she was. Even in the low light of the dancing flames of the torches flickering on the wall, he could make out her downcast face when she turned to her chambers. “Brienne, wait,” he shouted in desperation when she was about to unlock the door, because once she’d shut him outside, he didn’t believe he'd be able to speak to her until morning.

She turned to him, her lips trembling slightly and her chin quivering, but said nothing, merely staring at him in stony silence, perhaps wondering what he was doing here, seeking out her company, instead of spending the rest of the night celebrating with his brother and Podrick.

“Why did you leave?” he demanded, unable to think of anything else to say.

“Headache,” she lied, as if the habit was ingrained in her, “I wanted to get some sleep--”

“Oh, don’t you bluff, wench,” he spat out, exasperated, “not to me, at least, because I know you, and you can’t, for the sake of the seven, manage even a lie as petty as this.”

“I’m not lying,” she cried, “and you have no business to follow me. I’ll do exactly what I want. It is not your place to just--” she fumbled for words, her face now contorted with frustration “--walk in on me and demand an explanation.”

“You’re upset,” he called her out at once, refusing to waste time in unnecessary talk, “because of what Tyrion said, and I apologize on his behalf.”

“I’m not upset,” she vehemently denied, but once again, her eyes betrayed her words, the eternally expressive windows to her heart baring it all for him to see.

“Are you?” he asked without context, the question burning in his mind, eating into his insides ever since Tyrion had sown the seeds of doubt in him.

Brienne furrowed her brows in puzzlement. “What?”

“Still a virgin?” he put forth his question clearly this time. It wasn’t meant to come out this bluntly, but Jaime couldn’t help it, couldn’t beat the agony this was causing him, almost destroying him from within. “You didn’t say anything downstairs, nor did you drink,” he pointed out, the uncertainty beginning to slowly kill him.

Her expression shifted, hurt and frustration giving way to indignation as she turned to the door, her desire to avoid him clear as daylight. “It’s not your business,” she brusquely replied, placing a hand on the doorknob.

His hand enclosing hers before she could disappear into the safe haven of her chambers, Jaime was determined not to let her have her way and escape the sticky conversation. “Not so fast, wench,” he hissed, moving as close to her as he could. “You’re not getting in there without answering me.”

“Then I’m afraid you’d have to stay here all night,” she snapped back, jerking his hand away violently. Having no intent to stand there and entertain him, she unlocked the door and was about to slip inside, when he grabbed her arm.

“I'm going to stand here all night,” he growled, maintaining his ground, “if it's going to get me suitable answers.”

“I owe you no answers.” She continued to maintain an adamant stance, her gaze threatening to reduce him to a pile of ashes. “Now let me go, and get out of here--”

Jaime’s grip on her arm tightened when his imagination began running amok, visions of Tormund Giantsbane fucking the hell out of her increasing the rage in him a thousandfold. “How was it?” he asked, before he could stop himself. “Was he good? Did he--”

Her chin wobbling more than before, he could sense the tremors within her as she stopped him, her tone unusually hollow, “What the hell are you talking about?”

Hopeful, though he was, for a second, when he absorbed the shock and disbelief on her face, he still needed to hear it from her, her words the only means of conclusion and confirmation for him. “You know very well what I’m hinting at,” he continued to attack her, his eyes meeting her blazing blue ones. “Tormund Giantsbane - did you, by any chance, warm his bed?” the words slipped out before he could control them, jealousy wiping out all logic off his head. _Shut the fuck up, _a faint inner voice tried to tell him, but he refused to listen, the growing envy in him inhibiting his ability to think. “How was it--”

Before he could finish what he was about to say, Brienne shoved him away again, this time with more force than before. “Fuck off,” she yelled, her voice echoing off the walls of the vacant passage. “If you, once again, dare suggest anything like that--” she breathed heavily in rage, unable to speak for a few seconds “--trust me, I’m going to fling you to the ground and punch you into oblivion.” Biting her lip in fury, she was unstoppable as she continued firing threats at him. “I'll stop at nothing short of pinning you down and knocking the air out of your lungs.”

Lost for a second in visions of the wench pinning him down and doing pleasurable _ things _ to him, thoughts that led his cock to respond in the most appropriate way it could, he put aside her threat, taking only the essence of her outburst. “This means you haven’t been with him,” he confronted her, not bothering to hide the note of obvious relief in his voice, “nor with any other man--” _ yet, _he wanted to add, eager to change that tonight, but checked himself, for he had to make sure what was in her heart before he could make any kind of advances. 

“How does it matter to you?” she shot back, her tone more accusatory than miffed. Spots of red dotting her pale cheeks ascertained that he was right, boosting his confidence, telling him that all was not lost yet. 

Taking in as much air as he could to calm himself down, Jaime assumed a milder tone this time. “It does, my lady. I’ve been working hard for years to stay away from you, to oust you from my mind, but no matter how much I try to keep you at bay, I always fail,” he confessed, his eyes searching hers for even the slightest sign of a reaction other than anger. “Try as I might, to be indifferent, my attempts fall flat every single time, for I cannot bear the thought of another man occupying your heart, be it Renly Baratheon or Tormund fucking Giantsbane.”

The fire in her eyes now extinguished, Brienne appeared to be more at peace now, her gaze conveying an urgent need to seek clarifications, the questions in it pushing him to the brink of a confession and bringing to the fore his purpose of coming after her tonight. “Why, if I may ask?” 

The smooth talker that he usually was, sarcasm and dry humour being the sole flavours of conversation he could sustain, this was something he was completely unprepared for, his tongue turning to stone when it mattered to him the most. 

“Does it need saying?” he asked, hoping she’d read his mind.

A resigned sigh was all he received in response, perhaps a sign of her belief that it did need saying. But he couldn’t say that with certainty, for he was barely passable at reading expressions. _ Words be damned, _he decided, jumping into action as he pushed her against the door and pressed his lips to hers, kissing the fucking hell out of her. Stunned, though she appeared to be for a moment, when she came to terms with what was happening, she joined him, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him closer. The door swung open under the stress of their combined weight, and Brienne was thrown off balance, but he dragged her back to her feet and held her tight as they kissed their way indoors. Even as he kicked the door shut, his mouth never left hers, and he pinned her once more to it, pouring in years’ worth of passion in this one kiss, showing no mercy nor restraint, all his inhibitions biting the dust. His arms wrapped tightly around her, he pushed into her, his chest pressing against her breasts, while his fingers wandered all over her back, itching to rip away the layers of clothing obstructing him and get to her soft skin. She moaned when he bit her lip, and she groaned when he slid his tongue into the warm depths of her mouth, his aching hardness proof that she was the one, and he wanted her more than anything else.

_ More than Cersei, _ he realized, doubling the assault on her mouth, _ and it does need saying. _

“I love you, Brienne,” he panted into her mouth, when he let go of her, “more than anyone else. More than I’ve ever loved Cersei.” 

And then she smiled, a smile warmer than the one she’d graced him with when he'd knighted her, the affection in her eyes overwhelming him, for never before had anyone ever looked at him like that. While she didn’t say a word, her lips sought his in response to his confession, her touch, this time, sweet and tender as she placed kiss after little kiss on his mouth.

“Say something, wench,” he urged, aching to hear it from her despite knowing full well what her reply would be. Actions spoke louder than words, no doubt, but the power in those three little words was often underestimated, and having yearned for months for this night to come, nothing would be sweeter than her proclamation of love for him.

“Does it need saying?” she asked between their kisses, which were now beginning to get heated and furious. Disappointed, though he was, with her hesitation for verbal expression, Jaime decided to let go, to give in to the moment instead of complaining, to savour her company and welcome what was to come with open arms.

He knew not who undressed whom, nor did he pay attention to how they’d managed to get to her bed, the alcohol in his veins and his explosive desire for her wiping out every remaining trace of sanity in his mind, but by the time they had made it to her bed, they were stripped of every piece of clothing, their bodies and souls bare for each other to see.

They finally belonged to one another, no one standing between them, no one to stop them this time. 

Brienne lay on the bed, and he climbed in after her, craving her body around his, wanting her, and nothing but her, tonight and for every other day and night of his life. She pulled him down into an embrace, and he kissed her again, their lips merging to become one as they began their long awaited mating dance. “I love you, Jaime,” she gasped, planting a breathless kiss on his mouth when he slid into her, her face flushed with desire and need for him, “it has always been you. It could never have been another. Not Renly, not Tormund Giantsbane. No one.”

_ It does need saying, _Jaime concluded, thrusting deeper into her. While he gave himself to her completely, ensuring the Maid of Tarth remained a maiden no more, the elation her words brought about in him left him wondering what he had done to deserve a love as pure as the one she bore for him.

**Author's Note:**

> Again, I've stolen one of the iconic "Doctor Who" Ten/Rose lines  
The Doctor : "Rose Tyler--"  
The Rose : "Go on, how's that going to end?"  
The Doctor : "Does it need saying?"  
Rose : *Dissolves into tears*  
This always gets to me, and I can never get over David Tennant and Billie Piper knocking it out of the park in this scene.
> 
> Miffed that we didn't get a JB confession, I decided to convert this line into JB fluff.  
Yes, D&D, it does need saying.


End file.
